


Fight for the Right to Hold the One You Love

by TheWeaverofWorlds



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluffy Ending, Gay Bashing, Hospitals, Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Minor Violence, Misunderstandings, Nonbinary Jehan, Not Actually Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-21
Updated: 2015-10-21
Packaged: 2018-04-27 09:25:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5042893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWeaverofWorlds/pseuds/TheWeaverofWorlds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a peaceful rally goes wrong, and Grantaire ends up in the hospital, Enjolras is forced to confront some feelings that he was barely aware of. With a little help from his friends will he manage to make the best out of a horrible situation? And more importantly will R believe him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fight for the Right to Hold the One You Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [two_days](https://archiveofourown.org/users/two_days/gifts).



It had all seemed so simple when Les Amis d'ABC had been planning things in the Student Union. What could go wrong? Their intention was to stage a peaceful LGBTQ+ rally on campus to raise public awareness about the lack of gender neutral restrooms at the university, a matter very near and dear to one Jehan Provaire. They had been the one to bring it up, but it wasn't long til everyone in the group was on board. Well except Grantaire, but he was as on board as he ever got.

 

Montfermeil University was 'old fashioned', at its best, and 'dated' at its worst. It was a school steeped in tradition and prestige, and getting things to change was always an uphill battle. It had taken years for the school to open its doors to women, let alone recognize that being outside of the gender binary was even a thing...So perhaps a rally really hadn't been the best idea...

 

It had all started out fine. In the morning, Enjolras had gathered with his friends in front of Hugo Hall. Members of Les Amis began to hand out fliers and get people signing their petition. Nothing like a spectacle first thing in the morning.

 

“Good morning, flier?” Jehan asked a passing girl sweetly. 

 

“Sign our petition to ensure gender neutral bathrooms in the dorms and buildings?” Combeferre asked a passing student.

 

“Would you please take this to read-?” The boy brushed the brunette off, under her breath she muttered, “fucking rude.”

 

“'Ponine! That's not very nice,” Marius corrected. Eponine rolled her eyes.

 

It had been at that moment, Grantaire happened to stop by, causing everyone to briefly stop hassling the other students.

 

“R!” Jehan sang, rushing into the other's arms. Enjolras' eyes narrowed. Grantaire never seemed to believe in their causes, but he was drawn to their club because of Jehan...that Enjolras was definitely sure of...perhaps if the cynic believed in anything at all, then it was Jehan. Willowy, soft spoken Jehan...everything Enjolras himself was not.

 

“Hey babe, how's the rally going?” Grantaire asked teasingly with a wink.

 

Jehan pouted a little, “you know I hate it when you call me that.”

 

Grantaire laughed. “Yeah, but you look so cute when you're upset.”

 

Jehan began to laugh too. “Whatever, nerd. How about you, join us? We could really use your help!”

 

Grantaire eyed Enjolras nervously. “I don't think that would be the best idea.”

 

Enjolras couldn't help but huff internally. “Why not R? Don't you want people to be able to use the bathrooms of their choice without the fear of them being ridiculed or teased?”

 

“Can it blondie,” Grantaire gave him a scathing look. “If you really wanted to make a change you wouldn't be coming to this school. Nothing changes at Montfermeil. If you wanted to go to a progressive liberal arts school you chose the wrong fucking one.”

 

“The fuck is wrong with you?” Enjolras looked murderous. “How dare you! Why did you even stop by? So that you could tease us for actually caring about something-?”

 

“Calm down,” murmured Bossuet, eying the crowd they were drawing.

 

“I stopped by to check on Jehan,” Grantaire bit back.

 

“We're doing this for them! If you really cared about them, then you would care about this!” Enjolras seethed.

 

“Enjolras,” Jehan began softly, “it's not like that.”

 

“I don't care what it's like. Jehan, how could you ever be with someone so closed minded and cynical as this fool?”

 

“Fags,” a passerby spat.

 

“Excuse me?” Enjolras rounded on the person from where he was standing. He recognized the student as Gueulemer, an absolute brute of a man in his poli sci class.

 

“No one cares about this slut you're fighting over. And no one wants to see your gay ass drama before class,” the man continued.

 

“Fuck off,” Grantaire growled.

 

The student looked over at his friends beside him. “What's a gay little bitch like you gonna do about it?”

 

“R don't. They're not worth it,” Jehan said quietly.

 

“Shut up, faggot. Who's dick did you suck to even get into this school?”

 

And that's when Grantaire punched the other boy square in the jaw.

 

“You hit me!”

 

“Aw, are you going to go running to your daddy to hide behind his lawyers and money?” Grantaire cooed.

 

Enjolras was pushed back as students ebbed forward. He felt elbows jab into his sides as others hoped to get a better view. From what little he could see, his friends appeared to be as disoriented as he was. Marius was helping Joly get Bossuet back on his feet. Closer to him, Combeferre and Courfeyrac were trying to get to the front for some reason... The crowd around them was hungry for blood. 

 

His side and arm were stinging from where people had run into him, gingerly he tried to push himself forward. Staying near Combeferre and Courfeyrac he watched the scene unfold before him like a train wreck that he couldn't stop. Across the circle Enjolras could see Bahorel, jaw clenched, holding Eponine back. Others were scattered around as well, everyone's eyes were directed to the center.

 

“Look at this little fag, and you must be his gay ass boyfriend,” Gueulemer taunted. Grantaire's shoulders tightened, as he curled his hands into fists again.

 

“Don't call them that!” R growled.

 

“What a fag? He is.”

 

“They are not. Just walk away, this is none of your business.”

 

“I think it is,”Gueulemer sneered.

 

“Oh really?”

 

“Yeah. My grandfather paid for Hugo Hall to be built, he didn't want you queers to go getting your AIDs and shit all on it. I have a friend who could fuck the gay outta you boys. Maybe I should give her a call. She has a thing for turning queerbos like you,” he laughed.

 

Enjolras wanted to jump into the ring, but Courfeyrac shot him a pained look. If Enjolras got involved it would make things a lot worse for Les Amis.

 

“Don't you dare threaten us with that,” Grantaire spat at the student's feet.

 

“Ugh, your spit is disgusting. C'mon boys lets show this fag a lesson he isn't about to forget.”

 

From the circle emerged three other students, two grabbed a hold of Grantaire the other clasped Jehan, forcing him to watch.

 

Gueulemer began to throw punches aiming for Grantaire's stomach and ribs. The brunet's groans intensified at each hit. Enjolras desperately tried to push his way through the circle, but no one seemed willing to give him room. The noises went straight to his chest, he could feel it tightening. It became harder for his lungs to expand.

 

“Montparnasse, give me the knife,” Gueulemer said turning to his friend.

 

The well dressed individual passed a knife to his friend.

 

“This is what we do to faggots,” with a jab the knife was embedded into Grantaire's flesh. Gueulemer dragged the knife down the artist's side. “Bet he won't want to fuck you like this, ugly as you are.”

 

Enjolras wasn't sure who screamed louder, himself or Jehan.

 

“Take this as a lesson,” the Gueulemer spoke again. “No one messes with the social order of Montfermeil.”

 

The crowd began to disperse as both Enjolras and Jehan ran to R's side. The man had fallen to the ground and was losing blood quickly. Up close the cut was jagged, much larger than Enjolras had initially guessed. The skin around it was raw and red...practically shreded.

 

“Hello? 911? Yes, my friend has just been stabbed. He's losing a lot of blood from his side,” that would be Joly. “I'm guessing class three hemorrhage by the time you get here. Me? Med student-”

 

“Enjolras!” Combeferre's cries snapped Enjolras out of his reverie. “We need to put pressure around the cut.”

 

Enjolras nodded, tugging off his sweater and pressing it into Combeferre's already bloodied hands. He knelt on the ground helping apply pressure over the wound.

 

“-we're outside Hugo Hall, Montfermeil University...What? No. It wasn't self inflicted. He was attacked. Just get here...I AM CALM!”

 

“God, he looks so pale,” Jean murmured.

 

“He's supposed to. It's his body's way of trying to save itself,” Bahorel said coming to join the small group.

 

“Will he die?” Enjolras' stomach clenched as the words left Courfeyrac's lips.

 

“We need to get the cut above his heart,” Joly snapped, getting off the phone. Although he hated seeing his friends in pain, it was when they were injured that his knowledge for medicine shone.

 

“And how do you fucking suggest we do so?” Eponine growled. She was cagey and apprehensive, unsure what to do.

 

“Bahorel, help me turn him on his side,” Joly ordered.

 

“When is the ambulance coming here?” Marius asked shifting back and forth uneasily.

 

“Idiots said it could be a few minutes,” grumbled Joly. “Apparently Montfermeil's 'scenic' winding driveways and 'gorgeous' sprawling campus will make it harder for them to locate us. Not to mention Hugo Hall is pretty far away from the nearest driveway.”

 

Thankfully it didn't take too much longer for the sirens to ring through the campus. The group of friends anxiously looked over their shoulders awaiting for the EMTs to come get their friend. Finally a group of people approached them with a gurney.

 

“Alison, check the wound,” started one.

 

A pretty young woman came and moved Enjolras' hands away from Grantaire. She pulled away the sweater to reveal the gaping cut. “How did this happen?”

 

“Knife,” Bahorel replied.

 

She looked alarmed.

 

“Aight. Pat, you and I will lift him onto the gurney. One, two, three.”

 

Gently R was hoisted onto the bed, which had been lowered to the ground. Pat raised it, as Alison put an oxygen mask on the patient.

 

“The rest of you boys should probably get to class,” the leader said.

 

“I'm coming with,” Jehan cut in. “It's my fault this happened. I should be there.”

 

The EMT nodded.

 

“I want to go too,” Enjolras was speaking before he even knew what he was saying.

 

“What?” Courfeyrac asked, eyes wide.

 

The EMT looked unsure, but Alison said, “We don't have room. You'll have to come separately. Or perhaps later after class.”

 

“Enjolras, you can't miss another of Bieker's lectures. He'll kill you,” Bossuet stage whispered.

 

Enjolras clenched his jaw and nodded.

 

Jehan followed the EMTs back to where the ambulance was parked. Their friends could only watch.

 

“Fuck,” muttered Enjolras. “I should have done something. This was meant to be a peaceful rally...”

 

“There was nothing you could have done,” Feuilly sighed.

 

“Come on, we better get cleaned up,” muttered Combeferre.

 

Enjolras nodded, a little unsure what to do. Joly and Bossuet offered to help him clean the blood off his hands, and get him to his first class, much to Combeferre's relief.

 

The two men accompanied Enjolras back to his dorm where he went to the bathroom and began to scrub the blood from his hands. He was mesmerized, watching the red swirl down the drain. How could a color he loved so much make him feel sick to his stomach?

 

“You okay?”

 

Enjolras jumped, he had forgotten that Bossuet was sitting on the counter beside him. “It's probably for the best that Jehan is there. I would hate to traumatize Grantaire more by my being there.”

 

“What?” Bossuet asked. “What are you talking about? R would probably be over the moon if you were there.”

 

Enjolras frowned. “But he's dating Jehan.”

 

“Um...no he's not,” Bossuet shook his head.

 

“I-”

 

“I think Joly and I would be the experts on Grantaire's love life as we are his roommates,” Bossuet countered.

 

“But...?” Enjolras seemed to be at a loss for words.

 

“Jean is just one of R's closest friends. They like to tease each other immensely, but R has a major crush on someone else,” Bossuet said swinging his legs. He struck his heel against the pole holding up the counter and cringed.

 

“Oh,” Enjolras' shoulders slumped. “Well whoever that person is must be very lucky. After today Grantaire deserves the best.”

 

Bossuet laughed. “I guess justice really is blind.”

 

“What are you talking about?”

 

Bossuet rolled his eyes. “It's obvious Grantaire has a thing for you. Why do you think he stops by at all our meetings, or when you're making speeches? He's mad for you, Enjolras.”

 

Enjolras stared at Bossuet, letting those words sink in, before rushing out of the room crashing into Joly. “Is it true? Is R in love with me?”

 

Joly looked over Enjolras' shoulder to glare at Bossuet. “You told him?”

 

“It slipped out,” Bossuet grinned with a shrug.

 

Joly huffed. “Yeah, it's true. It was meant to stay secret from you-”

 

“What? Why?” Enjolras cocked his head.

 

“Because you aren't exactly the easiest person to admit feelings to. R didn't want to lose you as a friend if you found out about his crush. He was scared it would make your disdain for him increase immeasurably,” Joly explained.

 

“Does he really think me so inhuman?” Enjolras' shoulders slumped.

 

“You aren't exactly the nicest to him,” Bossuet added.

 

Enjolras opened his mouth before closing it again resolutely. “He believes I hate him?”

 

“A little,” Joly shrugged.

 

“I need to go to the hospital. Now.”

 

“Wait what about your lecture!?” Bossuet asked.

 

“Cover for me,” Enjolras replied, already halfway out the door.

 

“Bieker is gonna kill him,” Joly said a bit mournfully.

 

“Yeah, and Combeferre will kill us,” Bossuet added.

 

Joly looked over at the other man, the fear apparent in his eyes. “Shit.”

 

-

 

Enjolras arrived at the hospital practically out of breath. He made his way over to the nurses' station, panting. “I'm here to visit Grantaire. He was just brought in about twenty minutes ago.”

 

After some typing the nurse replied, “he's in surgery right now, but you can wait here.”

 

Enjolras nodded, and made his way back to the waiting area. That's when he noticed Jean sitting there.

 

“Enjolras?! What are you doing here?” asked Jehan anxiously.

 

“Are you in love with R?”

 

“No. What's brought that to mind?”

 

“Is he in love with you?”

 

“Of course not,” Jean laughed. “We're only friends. Now seriously what are you doing-”

 

“Is he in love with me?”

 

“About time,” Jehan muttered under their breath. “Yes, Enjolras. Grantaire is head over heels, crazy in love with you. He'd have your adopted babies if you asked.”

 

“A-are you joking right now?” Enjolras squinted.

 

Jean laughed. “I wish. All he can talk about is you, Enjolras. It's sickening actually.”

 

“So they weren't lying,” breathed Enjolras.

 

“Who?”

 

“Joly and Bossuet,” explained Enjolras.

 

Jean nodded. “Figured it would be one of them to spill the beans.”

 

“Who else knew?” Enjolras frowned.

 

“Eponine for sure, Bahorel, Feuilly, Musichetta, Joly, Bossuet, Combeferre, Courfeyrac, Cosette, Marius and I,” Jean shrugged.

 

“So everyone?” Enjolras flushed.

 

Jehan grinned lazily, “yeah.”

 

“Why didn't Combeferre or Courf tell me? They knew that-....”

 

“That what?”

 

“Nothing,” muttered Enjolras.

 

“That. What?” Pause. “Ohmigod! You love him back!”

 

“Could you say that any louder?” gritted Enjolras.

 

“Are you ashamed?”

 

“No, but it's being gay that got us into this mess-”

 

“Oh hush,” Jehan rolled their eyes. “R isn't gonna hold any of this against you. He's accepted his sexuality and is proud of it, like you should be. If there's anyone to blame it's that nasty Gueulemer fellow. You're in love, E. Sing it from the rooftops!”

 

A doctor approached them, “you're the ones waiting for Grantaire, right?”

 

“That's us,” Jean smiled.

 

“He's out of surgery right now, but it may take some time for him to wake up. Would one of you like to be there for when he wakes up?”

 

“Enjolras, you go,” Jean said breezily.

 

“Um.” Suddenly the weight of what he was doing hit him, and Enjolras, for the first time in his life became very unsure.

 

“Right this way, sir,” the doctor said leading the way.

 

Enjolras followed the doctor into a light hospital room. R was sleeping on one of the beds, the other lay empty, freshly made. Bruises were starting to form on his face, and his knuckles were looking a little worse for wear. Gingerly he took one of those bruised hands in his own before pressing his lips to it softly. Grantaire was always so tough and active, seeing him this vulnerable felt like a wrench to Enjolras' gut.

 

“Excuse me?”

 

Enjolras turned. Standing at the door was a police officer. “I'm here to interview this man for his part in the riot that took place at Montfermeil University this morning.”

 

Enjolras' visage darkened. “He's the victim.”

 

“According to the headmaster this man incited a student to violence through taunting and lewd displays in public. Should that student press charges this man could be in a lot of trouble.”

 

“And if that student stabbed this one?!” seethed Enjolras.

 

The young officer blinked, clearly unsure. “Um, nowhere in my notes does it say that that occurred.”

 

“Well it did. I'm an eyewitness. Ask his doctor, just fuck off,” Enjolras bit back.

 

The officer nodded before tripping over his own heels in his haste to leave.

 

“You didn't need to do that,” gurgled Grantaire.

 

“R! You're awake,” Enjolras turned his attention towards the brunet. “You look like hell.”

 

“I always look like hell,” mumbled R.

 

Enjolras shook his head. “Lucky for you I like the hellish ones, especially if they can manage to raise a little hell too.”

 

Grantaire gaped. “You must be one of the side effects of the morphine. Tell me vision, what have I done to earn such sweet torture now?”

 

“I'm not a vision, dumbass, I'm really here,” Enjolras sighed exasperatedly.

 

“Funny, you sound just like my subconscious. Alright not-me, prove you're real,” Grantaire said.

 

“I love you, Grantaire,” Enjolras breathed.

 

Grantaire's brow raised. “Am I to believe you are not from my own head now? I have lived this fantasy enough times to know it's always false.”

 

Frowning Enjolras leaned forward swiftly stealing a kiss from Grantaire. He would have preferred to ask permission, but he was afraid that R would just brush it off as a side effect of the drugs. The kiss deepened as Grantaire opened his mouth to Enjolras. The brunet was making needy sounds in the back of his throat, one of his sore hands tightening in Enjolras' hair the other resting gently on the blond's cheek as if to reassure him it was all real. Tongues slid past each other, desperately exploring the other's mouth. Teeth were knocked together, and R's scruff tickled Enjolras' skin. Enjolras could feel heat pooling in the bottom of his stomach, and he knew if they didn't break this kiss soon he'd have more than just heat in his stomach to deal with.

 

They finally pulled a part for air, Enjolras leaning his forehead against Grantaire's, his eyes looking desperately into the brunet's shocking blue ones. “Do you believe I'm real now?”

 

“I have always believed in you,” sighed Grantaire. “Ever since I stumbled into that first meeting of yours, I've believed.”

 

“God we've been such fools,” laughed Enjolras. “Wasted so much time....”

 

“Me especially. After all, I am the one who just got stabbed for no apparent reason,” Grantaire said with a wry smile.

 

“You got stabbed because you stood up for something you believed in,” Enjolras said with a mix of pride and awe.

 

Grantaire's smile became a smirk, “and now you see why I don't believe in anything.”

 

“You believe in me,” countered Enjolras.

 

Grantaire's eyes shone. “I would have you right here, if I could.”

 

Enjolras blushed. “You'd tear your stitches, idiot.”

 

“Yeah, but it would be worth it,” laughed R. “Fuck, you're just so beautiful.”

 

Enjolras smiled down at his hands. “I think we have a lot of talking we need to do.”

 

Grantaire laid his hand over Enjolras'. “I agree. But there's time for that.”

 

Enjolras smiled. “Yeah, we've got all the time in the world.”

 

Grantaire shifted over in the bed, and patted it awkwardly. Enjolras climbed on, and carefully entangled himself on Grantaire's good side. The brunet wrapped his arm around Enjolras' shoulder as the blond put one hand over the other's heart. Enjolras nestled his head into the crook of Grantaire's neck, and breathed in the welcoming scent. Whatever trouble he or Grantaire may be in, could wait. For now he was content just to lie there and run his fingers through the dark curls above him. Justice may be blind...but love was too. What a pair they made.


End file.
